The Life of a Lady
by cheeseandoreosHP
Summary: Astoria Greengrass has always wanted to escape the life of a lady to which she was condemned. Now, she is marrying Draco Malfoy... Is it is a mistake? Or the path to freedom she craves? Perhaps her soon to be mother in law has the answer...


**Author's note: I needed a short break from Revolts and Revenge, and as this was already written months ago and wasn't associated with any of my other stories, I thought I'd publish it. I love the pairing of Astoria and Draco, it's so much fun to write about. **

**I'm not an extremist, but I really did love writing about Astoria's feministic ideas after reading the books. I thought it was about time we heard from the point of view of a pureblood woman who ****_disagreed _****with the sexism and racism (Maybe muggleborn ism is more appropriate? Not sure!) I saw in the pureblood world when reading the books.**

**I would also love reviews? Even if you want to tell me I'm going about this all wrong and that this is a terrible story, feedback of any kind is appreciated. I know I'm being pathetic but... Please? **

Astoria stared blankly at herself in the mirror. Her dark, soft brown hair was in a wraparound plait, her blue eyes were drawn out, framed by dark lashes. Her dress had three quarter length sleeves made of lace, and was pulled in at her waist, lace and glass bead embroidery scattered down to just below that, neat pearl buttons going down her back. The skirt was what her mother called 'Cinderella', layers and layers of netting forming the skirt that fell in a beautiful waterfall around her, a neat semi train behind her. It didn't explode in the way Pansy Parkinson's had- making her look like a giant wedding cake. It was classy, simplistic and subtle. It befitted a young 21 year old woman of high society- a Greengrass, about to become a Malfoy.

So why did she feel so dissatisfied?

Astoria didn't have to search far for the answer to that one. Her whole life, she had been trying to escape the life of a lady. After all, she was not a doll on which you put on makeup or pretty dresses. Nor was she an antique vase, to be passed around and admired and then sold to the highest bidder.

Her entire life, her mother had been coaching her on how to act the pureblood wife. Smile, Astoria. Thank them, Astoria. Speak only when spoken to, Astoria. Wear this, Astoria. Don't make eye contact, Astoria. Get on with your needlework, Astoria. Make only polite small talk, Astoria. Hold your cutlery like this, Astoria. Don't eat that much, Astoria. Court only men of this blood, Astoria. Always have a chaperone when going out, Astoria. Stop reading the stupid book, Astoria. Book learning doesn't befit a lady, Astoria. Don't say stupid, Astoria. I did not say the book was stupid! Stupid isn't a ladylike word, Astoria.

It was a cage, and she was a puppet. In control of a higher puppet. Who was controlled by her father.

It was a beautiful cage. A cage where she was showered with beautiful dresses and jewelry that had been in the family for centuries and practically drowned in compliments. But it was all meaningless, and she despised it. After all, it was all pretend, acting, a polite manner and graceful air. No matter how pretty the cage, it was a cage non the less. Now, was she exchanging one cage for another?

Astoria had always been a free spirit, a rebel when she was away from her parents prying eyes. She had secretly sympathized with house elves, could see nothing wrong with muggleborns, hated the class system, despised and disagreed with every belief or moral her parents had ever taught her. But secretly, oh so secretly. Because she was the youngest Greengrass, a family with as much wealth, prestige and respect as the queen of England herself (in the muggle world) and a blood line as pure as it is possible to be, going back as far as the middle ages. Perhaps they had not always been in the same class as the Malfoy's, who could be traced back to the birth of magic itself, but they were only a couple of rungs down in the social ladder.

Perhaps marrying Draco was the biggest decision and the largest step towards freedom she had ever made. Perhaps she loved him, and he her. Perhaps this wasn't like most other pureblood marriages. Perhaps he knew of and respected her views on pureblood society, even (since the fall of Voldemort) agreed with many of her ideals. Perhaps he saw her as Astoria, not Miss Astoria Greengrass.

It was all true. All of the above were factors she had considered when she had agreed to marry him. But did it really matter? There were certain expectations placed on Astoria Malfoy, the wife of Draco Malfoy.

Astoria Greengrass, a lady of little, but much cherished, freedom, wasn't sure she was ready to give up the little she had for more duties.

A soft 'knock knock'. Astoria spun, ready for another gushing aunt, grandmother or gossiper come to tell her how beautiful she looked.

Narcissa Malfoy, beautifully dressed in her signature black, an elegant dress with a ruffled shoulder, a rope of pearls around her neck, with her hair tied back in an elaborate bun and a large brown hat with a floral decoration perched on the rim entered the room. She had silk gloves on her hands and brown sling back heals on her feet. Slender, pale and timeless beauty, she looked every bit the society lady.

"Astoria. You look stunning."

Astoria had got on well with her soon to be mother in law. She had been enchanted by the way Narcissa ruled the world that professed to be ruled by men, by the way the Malfoy men orbited around her, and how Narcissa had protected all that she loved. She was an ideal role model.

Narcissa, for her part, had taken immediately to Astoria. She was the ideal daughter in law, with her quiet unassuming manners, airs and graces and prettiness, as well as the spirit of fire that others overlooked but Narcissa perceived quite clearly. It had not escaped her notice, either, how much Draco adored the young girl and how much Astoria loved Draco. Theirs was the perfect relationship, with the balance of give and receive. It was all cold, haughty Narcissa, who was never all she seemed, who loved passionately and cared little for politics or pure blood or any such notions, could hope for her son. Draco was happy, and Astoria was the daughter she always wanted but never had.

"Thank you."

Narcissa waited as Astoria bit her lip, because it was quite clear to the older woman that the younger had something she was bursting to say.

"Did you ever think you were making the wrong decision?" she burst out. "Marrying Lucius, I mean. Confirming the life of a pureblooded lady which had been yours since birth?"

Narcissa hesitated. "No. I wasn't like you, Astoria. I didn't see the world as clearly then as I do now. I wasn't as intelligent and I'd never questioned the things my parents had been telling me since the day I was old enough to understand. To live up to people's expectations, to preserve my family honour, to make my family proud. At 21, it was all I could think of to ask for from society and from myself. I wanted nothing more or less than to make the most prosperous, prestigious match I possibly could." she smiled ruefully.

"But, afterwards, did you ever regret it?" Astoria asked, with obvious mingled exasperation, impatience and desperation.

"I did love Lucius, Astoria. I always have and, I believe, I always will." Narcissa said gently.

Astoria looked really impatient now. "I love Draco, Narcissa. With all I am. So why am I so-" she hesitated, searching for the right word. Then, with a faint air of clutching straws, she said "Do you never feel suffocated? Do you not want to escape from the rule of men?Do you not want freedom, sometimes?"

Narcissa pulled up a chair to sit beside the young woman. "This world isn't ruled by men, Astoria. And freedom, suffocation, it's just a perception. There are many kinds of freedom. Do you think, had my family been ruled by Lucius, and, to a lesser degree, Draco, we would have made it through the war? Without my guidance, without my _rule_, we could ever in a million years made it through those long, dreadful years? Lucius gives me strength. Draco gives me courage. I know I give them both. We have power in our smiles and beauty and love. We can play games, and no one even guesses it is us women and not the all powerful, masculine men who have won. During the war, Voldemort occupied our home. In the name of his survival, and the survival of the ones he loved, Draco was forced to do terrible things. I don't doubt he has told you. You cannot imagine what it did to him. For the duration, I cannot recall he spoke more than two words unless forced. He rarely ate. He rarely slept. He was a shadow of what he had been. He was lost. He was a boy." she pulled in a deep breath, and looked Astoria in the eye. "The war ended, but he was as silent, as aggrieved, as ill, as desperate, as unhappy as he was when he served Voldemort. The dark mark was burned into his skin, and he was haunted by the things he had done, the mistakes he had made. He saw himself as something evil, something made of nothing but darkness. There are many kinds of freedom, Astoria. Draco wasn't free. Lucius and I weren't free, watching him waste away. And then you came, and you brought with you freedom for us all. But you brought something more important than even that. You brought love. You brought light. Now, we women may not have as much freedom as we would like, and certainly don't process much power in the traditional sense. But, if you look closely, I think you, Astoria, have a lot more freedom than you are using, and a whole lot more power."

It was the most Astoria had ever heard her mother in law speak for as long as she had then. And she would be her mother in law. In precisely 17 minutes.

"Thank you. And I think you are a lot more intelligent than you give yourself credit for."

Narcissa smiled. "Thank you. Now, I'd better go and take my seat. The ceremony will be starting soon."

As Astoria walked up the aisle on her fathers arm, her sister behind her, she smiled to herself. She knew she was free at last.

And so, later that evening, when Draco asked her whether she thought she had made the right decision, she didn't even have to think about the answer before it slipped from her lips.

"Of course."

Draco smiled. "Home, then?"

He slipped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. She smiled back, and breathed in the scent that was uniquely Draco, looking directly into the startling grey eyes of the man who was now her _husband.._.

"Home." she agreed.


End file.
